Everywhere
by creativeenigma
Summary: Sequel to Flack's Secret Valentine. Decided to turn this whole mysteriousadmirer thing into a series. FlackOC pairing. Flack recently received a gift on Valentine's Day and slowly begins to piece together the identity of his secret admirer. Chapter 3 is f
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Don Flack (though I wish I do… _sigh_) or anything related to _CSI: NY_. I also do not own the lyrics to Michelle Branch's _Everywhere_.

**NOTES: **Decided to turn this whole mysterious-admirer thing into a series. I won't update much though as I need time to come up with ideas and stuff. Many thanks to my friend, **Aina**, for helping me with the song choice! Thanks also to those who reviewed _Flack's Secret Valentine_! I appreciate it!

It's been less than two months since Don Flack got his "surprise Valentine" gift. As time passed by, he has forgotten about the balloons (which has since then deflated) and the cards. Crime has always managed to get hold of his attention.

It was a nice day in New York city. Except for the view of a man who appears to be dead in a rubbish bin in a quiet neighborhood. Flack arrived there as soon as he got the call. Notebook in his right hand a pen in another, he begun to question the old lady who discovered the body.

"At what time did you find the body, ma'am?" he asked.

"Around twelve noon today. When I was taking out the trash. Opened the lid and saw the body in there."

"Did you touch or move the body from its original position?"

"No, detective. Went straight back to my house and called the police."

Flack wrote this all down in his notebook. "I have just one more question: do you recognize this man?"

The old lady sighed. "Yes, that's Sam Kliwt."

"Where did he lived?"

"He's homeless. Didn't have a home. Roamed around the neighborhood. Sometimes I let him sleep on my front lawn. He's not dangerous, really."

"Alright. Thank you, ma'am."

The old lady nodded and left. Flack stood there for a moment, writing in his notebook. He heard a car door close and heard several footsteps. He turned and saw Crime Scene Investigators Stella Bonasera and Danny Messer walking towards him, a crime scene kit in each of their hands.

"Alright," said Stella. "What have we got?"

"Homeless guy named Sam Kliwt," said Flack, reading from his notebook. "Was found dead by an old lady at around noon today when she was taking out the trash."

Danny peered into the rubbish bin. "Respect for the dead and all, but you could have known that he would have at least shaved and changed his clothes."

"He was a homeless guy, Danny," said Stella.

Flack watched as Stella and Danny both slipped on a pair of latex gloves each and begun processing the crime scene. While waiting for them, he interviewed the other neighbors.

After a while, Stella and Danny were done and so was Flack.

"What have you two got?" asked Flack.

"Trash," said Danny. "The guy _was_ found in a rubbish bin."

"We're having the coroners to move the body and the bin back to the lab," said Stella. "How about you?"

"Most of the neighbors said that Sam was a nice guy. Didn't hurt anyone. Occasionally, the neighbors would give him some food and let him stay on their front lawns."

"Who would wanna murder a homeless guy?" wondered Danny out loud.

"That's your job to figure that out," said Flack.

**BACK AT THE LAB**

"I see no trauma or any form of abuse on this man's body. No wounds, except for old scars which looks as if it was there for a couple of weeks. No blood wound either," the coroner told Stella and Danny. "In fact, Sam Kliwt was in good shape."

"Then what killed him?" said Stella.

"Hunger," answered the coroner. "Plain and simple."

"The guy starved to death?" said Danny, adjusting his glasses.

"What did you expect?" said Stella. "Homeless guy with no money to buy anything and relies heavily on good neighbors to give food."

**BACK AT NYPD**

Flack closed his drawer shut. Another case done. This time; the victim died of natural causes. His stomach rumbled. He hadn't had lunch yet. Was too busy working on the Sam Kliwt case. He felt the craving for Japanese food; sushi to be more specific. He decided to get one.

Flack was about to walk out from the building when Sheldon Hawkes called out to him.

"Lunch," said Flack. "Wanna join me?"

Sheldon thought about it for awhile. "Sure. I'm on my lunch break anyway."

They got into Flack's car and drove off to Flack's favorite sushi restaurant.

**MEANWHILE**

She put a strand of blonde hair behind her ears. She just finished an article for the next edition of _Chic_ magazine, a popular women's magazine. She was working on an article titled _Relationships: Is Yours Going To Have A Happy Ending?_. After checking through it, she was satisfied and leaned back on her chair, sipping her coffee. She turned on the radio to her favorite station.

"Call us now if you want to dedicate a song to loved ones or friends," said the DJ. "Our number is…"

She thought about what happened a few weeks ago. She smiled to herself. She knew exactly what song to dedicate to a certain detective. She dialed the station's number and waited for them to pick up.

**IN FLACK'S CAR**

Flack switched on the radio in his car. He was in relaxed mode and that rarely happens. During that time, he likes to just listen to the radio. He especially likes listening to the dedications.

"…from New York," said the DJ. _Damn, I missed the introduction_, thought Flack. He liked listening to callers introducing themselves. For some reason, he likes knowing people's names. Must be the detective in him.

"Hi," said the caller who was a female.

"She sounds pretty," said Sheldon.

Flack laughed. "How could you tell if someone is good looking from their voice?"

"I don't know. I just do."

"And what song would you like to dedicate and to whom?" said the DJ.

"I would like to dedicate _Everywhere_ by Michelle Branch to Detective Don Flack."

_BEEEP_

Flack accidentally pressed the horn on his car, causing several people to look at him. He gave an apologetic look and stared at the radio. Sheldon wanted to say a few things but decided to keep his mouth shut anyway.

"Ah, an NYPD detective?" said the DJ.

"Yes, as a matter of fact."

"What would you like to say to this Detective Flack? What if he's on right now listening to this station?"

"Then I would like to tell him this: We've met before," she said. "At a crime scene."

"A crime scene?" laughed the DJ. "Of all places to meet?"

The female caller laughed. "Yes, as weird as it sounds. We met at a crime scene."

"Just a few weeks ago was Valentine's day. Did you do anything special for or with him?"

"Ummm… I bought him balloons. That's it."

The DJ laughed. "Wanna add in anything else?"

"Nope, that's it. Thanks and bye!"

"Thank you for calling."

She hanged up. "Alrighty, here's _Everywhere_ by Michelle Branch dedicated to Detective Flack. Enjoy a break from crime fighting, detective!" said the DJ. As the intro started, Sheldon turned to look at Flack.

"That was the girl who bought you the balloons?" he said.

"Yeah I guess so," said Flack.

Sheldon leaned back. He seems to be in deep thought. He was quiet for a few minutes.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" said Flack. "I can almost hear the gears turning in there!"

"Have you ever tried to find out who that girl is?"

"No. I'm too busy with what's happening to others. Besides, it's not that urgent to me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Now you're confusing me."

Sheldon laughed. "Just listen to the ending of this song," he said, nodding towards the radio. Flack listened to it.

_Cause you're everywhere to me _

_And when I close my eyes it's you I see _

_You're everything I know _

_that makes me believe _

_I'm not alone _

_'Cause you're everywhere to me _

_And when I catch my breath _

_it's you I breathe _

_You're everything I know _

_that makes me believe _

_I'm not alone _

_You're in everyone I see _

_So tell me _

_Do you see me?_

Flack couldn't help feeling flattered and happy towards the woman who dedicated the song to him.

"It's a good ending, no?" said Sheldon, smiling smugly.

Flack smiled and nodded. All of a sudden he wasn't hungry for sushi anymore.

_To be continued…_

_------------------------------------------------------- _

So what do you guys think of this? I thought it was ok. Didn't really have time to plan everything since my exams are coming in a few days. Just typed it all on my computer in case I'll forget the story ideas. If this isn't good, I promise I'll try my best to write a better chapter once my exams are over.


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own anything related to CSI: NY.

**NOTES:** Sorry for the late update! My comp crashed and I can't do anything but sit and wait. So, here's chapter 2 of _Everywhere_. Sorry if it's a little… rusty and short. Anyway, I decided to make this chapter about Flack and in later chapters I'll try to add in more info about his secret admirer.

Weeks passed since the mysterious song dedication. It was a nice, peaceful and quiet night. The breeze was cooling and the air was fresh. It's the perfect night to go out with your family, friends or a special someone. But for Flack, it was too _perfect_. Scratch that part out. It was too _boring_. He was given the night off because he has been working overtime.

There was Flack, sitting in front of the couch with a remote control in his left hand a can of beer in his right hand. He was flipping through the channels and couldn't find a single God damn thing to watch. There wasn't even a Yankees game on! Giving up, he turned the television off and drank the last of his beer. It was quite obvious that he was bored. He wished that he was at his desk in the NYPD or with any of the CSIs.

Suddenly his cell phone rang and he eagerly took it out from his pocket. Thinking that it was the NYPD or a CSI, he didn't bother to check the caller ID. He just flipped it open and answered it.

"Flack," he answered.

"Hey!" said an excited female voice. Flack couldn't really recognize the voice.

"I don't mean to be rude or anything but… who is this?"

The caller laughed. "Holy shit, Don; don't tell me you've forgotten your own _sister_!"

Flack lightly smacked his head. "Christy! Sorry about that. I was expecting someone from NYPD."

"Nah, don't sweat it. So how are you? It's been so long since we last met!"

"Yeah, it has been quite some time since we last contacted."

"Hey, do you want to go out for dinner with me? If you're not busy, that is."

"Sure, I'd love to go out for dinner with my little sister."

"Great. So I'll see you in _Hal's Diner_ in one hours' time?"

"That's fine with me. See you there, Christy."

"Alright, Don."

**AFTER ONE HOUR…**

Flack entered the not-so-crowded diner and chose a seat facing the door. He was dressed in a light blue shirt and wore a pair of dark blue jeans. No way was he eating in a diner in his work suit.

"Don!" called someone. Flack looked up and saw Christy walking towards him, a huge smile on her face. Flack and Christy looked alike with their wavy black hair and sharp blue eyes. People thought they were twins even though Flack was 5 years older than Christy.

"Hi," said Flack, standing up and gave her a hug. She hugged him back and they both sat down.

"I'm so glad I'm able to steal you away from your job for awhile," she said, grinning.

"Nah, they gave me the night off; said that I was working too much."

"And you do. I tried calling you but you're either not home or too busy."

Flack grinned sheepishly. "I'm sorry, but a detective's work is never done; especially in New York."

Christy nodded.

"How about you? What's going on in your life?"

"Well, let's see… today I just found out that I'll be working with one of the most best-selling magazines ever."

"Congratulations, I'm sure you're going to do well."

"Thanks. Enough talk about work; it's boring."

She leaned in a little closer to him. "I heard that song dedication made to you a few weeks ago," she said, grinning.

Flack's cheeks turned red a little and smiled. "Yeah well… It was just a dedication."

"Are you kidding? Don, you have practically a whole room full of women wanting you to at least look at them."

Flack raised an eyebrow at her.

"What are you talking about?"

"All I'm saying is; there's a girl out there who likes you. Judging from the song she chose, I'm guessing she really, _really_ likes you. Just give her a chance. Try to find out about her."

Flack sighed and looked down.

"I'm right, am I?" said Christy with a hint of smugness in her voice.

Flack looked up at her. "I suppose. But what if I never find out who she is?"

"Don't worry," said Christy. "I'm sure you will someday."

Suddenly Flack's stomach rumbled and he suddenly remembered why they came to the diner. He raised a hand and a waitress came to their table and set two menus in front of them.

"So," said the waitress, taking a pen and notebook out from the pocket in her apron. "What will it be?"

**AFTER DINNER…**

After seeing that Christy got home safely, Flack went back to his apartment. Locking the doors, he put his keys into a drawer. He sat on the couch and played back what Christy said.

_Just give her a chance. Try to find out about her_.

Flack snorted. _Easier said than done_, he thought. He couldn't even figure out where to begin. Then he opened his drawer and took out the balloons his secret admirer sent him. They have deflated since then and he folded them so that they can fit into his drawer.

"Who and where are you?" he said softly.

Only time will tell.

_To be continued…_


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER**: I do not own anything related to CSI:NY.

**A/N**: Sorry for the extremely long update! I've been busy with stuff, not to mention the fact that I had writer's block. Here's the third chapter of my story. Sorry if it seems kinda weird.

It's been a while since Flack had dinner with his sister but here he was, back at NYPD and he's working on a case. Usually he'd have a clear head for this but lately he's been playing back the conversation he had with his sister in his head.

_Just give her a chance. Try to find out about her._

All week he has been wondering. He clearly has no idea who this woman is. She could be anybody. She could be his neighbor; she could be even be here in the NYPD. He doesn't know.

"Why couldn't she have been a criminal or something? At least it'll be easier to find her on AFIS or something," he muttered to himself.

"Flack?" called Lindsay Monroe.

Flack snapped out of his thoughts and turned to see the petite country-girl walking towards him, excitement in her eyes. Flack refrained from calling her Montana, the nick name Danny made for her.

"I got a lead on our case," she said, waving a paper in front of him.

"We have a match to the person who left behind that spit?"

"Positive. It belongs to a Keith Judd."

Flack took the paper out of her hand and looked at it.

"Sexual harassment," he read off the paper. "Let's pay this guy a visit."

**IN THE CITY…**

"Is that him in that café?" asked Lindsay, pointing a thumb towards the small building.

Flack turned and looked at the direction where Lindsay was pointing. Al's Café was the name of the building.

"Where?"

"There, sipping from a cup."

Flack looked at the man and looked back at the picture in his hand. He confirmed that it was him.

"C'mon, we have to ask him some questions."

Flack and Lindsay walked towards the café. Keith Judd had no idea that the two detectives were closing in on him. He was drinking from a cup of coffee.

"Keith Judd?" said Lindsay.

"Who wants to know?" said Judd.

"Detective Don Flack and Crime Scene Investigator Lindsay Monroe, NYPD," said Flack, flashing his badge.

"Oh God no, don't tell me that damn parole officer asked you guys to come here," said Judd, running a hand through his brown, shaggy hair. Flack thought that it could use a good wash.

"Does this woman look familiar to you?" asked Lindsay, showing a picture of a woman he looks as if she was in her late thirties.

Judd looked at the picture for a while before going back to sipping his coffee.

"Never seen her," said Judd.

"Really? Then explain to us how your _spit_ got to the crime scene."

Judd put his cup down and looked at the two detectives.

"I'm not saying another word. Until you actually have enough proof, I'm out," he said.

With that, he threw a couple of bills on the table and walked out.

"Well, that went well," said Flack.

**MEANWHILE…**

Her stomach grumbled. Even without a watch to tell the time, she could always count on her stomach to tell her when was lunch time.

"I'm going for lunch; in case the boss asks," she called out to her colleague, Jim.

"Alright, but remember; you still have to introduce the new girl," he said.

"Oh, I nearly forgot. Thanks for reminding me. I'll see you in a bit."

With that, she put her coat on and walked out of the building. She pondered on where to go for lunch. She was in the mood for something... light. She spotted Al's Café and decided to eat there. The food there is great; plus the fact that it's cheap.

She entered the air-conditioned building. She smelled the food being cooked and her drool glands worked overtime. Instantly, she took a seat facing the window and studied the menu.

_Hmmm, sandwiches looks nice_, she thought. _It'll go well a cup of coffee._

A waitress came towards her and took down her order.

"Is that all, Miss?" said the waitress.

"Yes, thank you."

The waitress disappeared into the kitchen. Feeling bored, she eyed a couple of magazines on the magazine rack and walked towards it to get a magazine to read. On the way back to her table, she accidentally knocked into someone who was heading out of the cafe and dropped the magazine.

"I'm sorry, Miss," said the person she knocked into. By the voice, it was man.

"It's ok," she said, brushing herself with her hand.

The man bent down and picked up the magazine she dropped.

"I believe this is your magazine?" he said.

She looked up and had to control herself from gasping. She was staring straight into a pair of blue eyes. She's seen them from far but up close, they were gorgeous. She tried not to drool as she stared at him for a few seconds.

"Miss?" said the man again.

"Oh – ummm – yeah, that's mine," she stuttered, taking the magazine from him with a shaky hand. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he said.

Once she made sure that he was out of the café, she hurried back to her table and sneaked a peek through the window.

Yes, that was him. But who was that girl he was with? A girlfriend? She started to panic a little. She saw the badge on the girl's waist and realized that she too was a cop.

_They're probably trying to find someone_, she thought. She felt calmer.

She started down at the magazine and smiled to herself.

It was the eyes of Don Flack that had stared into.

**FLACK'S POV**

"I never knew you were such a gentleman," said Lindsay.

"What do you mean?"

"That lady you bumped into; usually most guys would just walk past and not say sorry."

"My parents brought me up to be a gentleman so you have them to thank for."

Lindsay laughed. Flack smiled to himself.

"But her voice…" he said.

"What about it?"

Flack shook his head. "Nothing."

"Well, if you say so."

_But there was something oddly familiar about her voice_, Flack thought. It was like he heard it somewhere. But then again, he's a detective; almost everyone and anyone is familiar to him.

_Focus, Flack_, he thought. _You still have a case to work on_.

**BACK AT HER OFFICE**

She was grinning all the way back. People assumed that something was wrong with her, but she was just happy. Very happy of what happened earlier in the café. She felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

Her editor was waiting for her in her office.

"Ah, good, you're back," he said. A woman with black, wavy hair was standing next to him.

"This is the newbie," he said. "Show her the ropes and introduce her to everyone."

With that he smiled and walked out of the office.

"Hi," said the new girl, extending a hand.

"Hi," she said, smiling. She studied the girl's face. Definitely pretty; yet strangely familiar. She looked at her eyes and felt knots in her stomach. There was something about her eyes…

"Welcome…" she said, expecting a name.

"Oh, my name's Christy. Christy Flack."

_To be continued…_


End file.
